Chapter 54 Daughter of the Blue Rose
Words : 680
Updated : Sep 22nd, 2025
When Belan took another step forward, still acting as if Jolthar were invisible, he decided enough was enough.
He released his carefully controlled aura, letting his true power flood the tavern.
The effect was immediate and dramatic. Glasses rattled on tables. Candle flames bent sideways. Every person in the room, including Belan and her warriors, staggered slightly under the sudden pressure.
That finally got her attention. Belan's head snapped around to face him, her eyes widening in genuine surprise. "Who are you, kid?" she demanded, really looking at him for the first time.Nôv(el)B\\jnn
The slight emphasis on 'kid' carried both confusion and dismissal – he was clearly younger than her, and that fact seemed to override the power he'd just demonstrated.
"As I said," Jolthar replied patiently, "I'm Jolthar. And I'd really prefer to resolve this without violence. Whatever Roblan did, surely there's a better way to handle this than bloodshed in a public tavern?"
Belan's laugh was sharp and without humour. "You came to defend this snake? What are you, sixteen? Seventeen? Go home, boy. This isn't a game, and your little pressure trick won't save you from real fighters."
Jolthar sighed heavily. "It's not that I'm afraid," he said, genuine regret in his voice. "I just wanted to avoid hitting women. It feels... ungentlemanly."
That was exactly the wrong thing to say.
Belan's face flushed with rage, her hand dropping to the sword at her hip. "Ungentlemanly?" she snarled. "I'll show you what happens to 'gentlemen' who underestimate us." She nodded to one of her companions. "Teach him some manners, Sara."
The woman on Belan's left – tall, muscular, with close-cropped black hair – drew her sword and lunged forward in one fluid motion. It was a perfect attack, technically flawless, exactly as she must have practiced thousands of times.
Jolthar saw it coming as if it were happening in slow motion.
His recent fight with the orc had taught him much about his own capabilities, and his eyes tracked Sara's movement with practiced ease.
Belan's response was a blur of motion. She was significantly faster than her warriors, her blade weaving patterns that would have confused and overwhelmed most opponents. Her technique was excellent, showing years of dedicated training and real combat experience.
But Jolthar's eyes caught every movement, every subtle tell.
His fight with the orc had pushed him to understand the level of fighting he could muster against an enemy. He was able to fully utilise the abilities that he had trained all those years.
Gauging her level and aura, Jolthar knew he had to act fast and go all out from the get-go.
The courtyard erupted in deadly grace as Belan rose into the air.
Her sword art form—the seven streams of cherry blossoms—was a profound sword technique of the Blue Rose and was down only to the descendants.
Seven streams of cherry blossoms - each a different hue - spiraled around her like cosmic rings. "You face the Seventh Blade of the Blue Rose, country boy," she sneered. "Let's see how your provincial sword arts fare against the Seven-streamed art!"
Jolthar stood his ground, his weathered longsword held in a low guard. Though only a Tier 4 swordsman, the void-touched energies that coursed through his blade had earned him victory against a supposedly superior foe before.
"Fancy petals won't save you, my lady."
A massive cherry blossom construct, sharp as razors and cold as winter frost, materialized above Belan. "Ice Edge Blossom!" she commanded, sending the crystalline formation hurtling toward Jolthar with devastating force.
The crowd had already cleared the space around them and watched in awe.
The woman who fell by Jolthar gathered behind Belan, a couple of meters away.
Roblan was hiding behind the counter with others; the tavern seemed like it wouldn't hold out much longer. It was just a run-down tavern and if the fight continued like that, the whole area will be destroyed.
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